The Song of the WiraPurú
by Elennare
Summary: "Everything could be a dream... The real question is whether you want to wake up." A research trip to the Amazon forest changes everything. Written for hp canon fest on LJ, from March 2011.


AN: Thank you to my wondeful Beta writer xsabrix, especially for her help with the title and summary.

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><p><em>Dear Rolf<em>

_As you see in the attached notes, my research is going very well indeed. These Fire Slugs are fascinating! The weather is not disturbing me quite so much now it's drier, but I will be glad to see the back of it once the Ministry authorization to take specimens to England comes through. Fortunately the delay has given me a chance to have a good habitat prepared for them back home._

_Enough of my work, though. The more I look into it, the more convinced I am that there is a magical subspecies of the Musician Wren. It's hard to complete the research until nesting season, though, and I really can't stay so long. So stop dithering, boy, get in touch with Lovegood and come over here. You'd love it, and if anyone can discover the truth about this, it's you two. What are you waiting for?_

_Give my love to your parents, and don't tell your grandmother you're coming over until the last minute. She'll want to come, but the heat would be terrible for her health, and it's pointless, since I'll be home very soon. _

_Love from your ever-bossy grandfather,_

_Newt_

.-.-.-.

"I think it's a fantastic opportunity to learn about completely different magical species, and one you ought not to waste." Xenophilius said enthusiastically.

Luna considered the prospect, grey eyes unfocussed. "It's very nice of Rolf to ask me, and I would love to study this Wira-purú bird".

"There's no reason not to go. It's perfect, in fact. I can visit Walahfrid as I promised him, and you can travel and learn new things."

Luna nodded slowly, coming to a decision. "I'll write to Rolf and tell him I'd love to go, and I'll meet him for the Portkey".

Xenophilius attempted an expressionless face. "Rolf is a nice lad, isn't he?"

"I wouldn't say he's a lad, but he is nice". Luna seemed not to have picked up anything unusual from his words, so Xenophilius left her to her writing and went off to prepare for his own journey. He looked back, but her long hair hid her face as she bent over her quill.

.-.-.-.

The stout, balding man glanced at his watch impatiently. What was keeping those two? He had been very clear about the necessity of arriving early if they wanted to get set up today. A noise of snapping twigs made him look around to where a young couple had appeared, both clinging to an old rope. The older man grinned.

"Rolf, Luna, it's about time you got here! Come along, there's no time to waste."

Rolf smiled back and stepped forwards to shake hands with his grandfather, somewhat encumbered by the large pack on his back. Newt returned the handshake with an enthusiasm that made him wince. Luna, meanwhile, hadn't moved from where she had landed on arrival. Her eyes seemed even larger than usual as she tilted back her head, trying to take in the whole forest. Newton hesitated; he remembered his arrival here, the way the sights and sounds took his breath away, and it didn't seem right to disturb her.

Before he could come to a decision, a whistling, flutelike call made itself heard nearby over the constant background of noise. If ever the old magizoologist had seen a good omen for an expedition, this was one. He didn't think it was the magical subspecies, but it was undoubtedly a Musician Wren.

"I think we're being welcomed" came Luna's dreamy voice in the hush that followed.

"You might be right. I'm so glad you told us about this, Grandpa, studying the Musician Wren is going to be wonderful."

Newton smirked. "I thought you'd appreciate it eventually, despite your dilly-dallying about coming. Now follow me, we've got to get you set up so you can start work before it gets too hot."

.-.-.-.

Rolf's nose itched unbearably. His whole body was stiff. Stray sunbeams, filtering through the canopy, seemed to be burning straight through his clothes. Sweat trickled down his back. The strap on his omnioculars was digging painfully into his neck. He couldn't endure sitting still a second longer. He had felt this way for the last hour, at least, and would continue to put up with it as long as it took. He was grateful that he couldn't see Luna, thanks to the Disillusionment charms on them both – he was sure she would be completely, irritatingly, calm.

They had been here for a little more than a month. By now, they had identified several magical Wira-purú wrens; drawing too close to the bird, or especially to a nest, would result in an alarmed call and a forceful compulsion to move away that could only be attributed to magic. Careful observation had revealed slight colouring differences between these wrens and the ordinary ones, but examination of the birds had not shown any other magical properties.

Before he left, though, Newt had told them of Indian legends concerning the Wira-purú; one of the most common said the bird's song during nesting time brought blessings upon the listener. Luna and Rolf had been fascinated by the tales, and the decision to stay until nesting season finished was made at once. They were watching one of the first nests to be made that in their area; the eggs should be hatching shortly. Rolf looked over to where he knew Luna was sitting, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make her out. She was there, though; she would never have left.

.-.-.-.

It was nearly dusk when the watching naturalists noticed movement in the nest. With gentle, graceful movements, Luna drew up her omnioculars and focussed them on the wrens. A smile slowly spread across her face, as she saw the first tiny chick poke its head out. As she watched, another downy head appeared above the leaves that built up the nest. Then, the new parents started singing.

The Wirapuru was fairly common in the area, and Luna had heard many of its different songs. This, one, though, was different, and unquestionably magical in the way it thrilled every nerve of her being, making her feel as though everything was perfect, as if dreams could come true.

Nothing lasts forever, and the musician wrens' song finally came to an end. As silently as possible, Rolf and Luna slipped away in the gathering dark, removing the Disillusionment charms. They were reaching their camp by wand light when the waxing moon rose, lighting the forest. Luna laughed in delight and spun around, dancing as if she could still hear the magical song. Rolf appeared in her vision, smiling in a mix of joy and surprise. Still laughing, she ran to him and caught his hands.

Rolf looked at her, his heart beating fast.

"Are we dreaming, Luna?"

"Everything could be a dream... The real question is whether you want to wake up."

He shook his head. Her eyes shone silver in the moonlight as she lifted her face towards him, and he leaned down to meet her lips. Neither was sure how long the dream would last, but it didn't matter. Tomorrow there might be doubts, hesitation. Tonight there was simply love.


End file.
